


you're ripped at every edge (but you're a masterpiece)

by TolkienGirl



Series: All That Glitters Gold Rush!AU: The Full Series [196]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Art Alphabet, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Gen, Love doing this type of Thing, Motherly love, One Word Prompt Meme, Title from a Halsey Song, a Sad Queen, little insights into the life and art of Nerdanel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23100184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TolkienGirl/pseuds/TolkienGirl
Summary: From armature to zinnober.
Relationships: Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel, Nerdanel & Sons of Fëanor
Series: All That Glitters Gold Rush!AU: The Full Series [196]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1300685
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	you're ripped at every edge (but you're a masterpiece)

**_Armature_ (a structural support for a sculpture)**

She pressed a kiss to Indis’ cheek. She let Fingolfin take her hand. She smiled at Anaire, who hated Feanor most of all.

**_Bisque_ (unglazed clay forms)**

“Formless little lumps,” she said affectionately, with one twin at each breast. “But we have seen it before, Feanor. They always grow, and are finished.”

**_Chiaroscuro_ (the balance of light and shade; strong contrast)**

She liked to kiss him when he was angry. Sometimes it seemed to heal the wound between them.

**_Diptych_ (two hinged panels) **

Her two eldests, the bright and the dark, will not desert each other. Not for any force on earth—certainly not, then, for the bustles and distractions of the city.

**_Engraving_ (scratching lines in metal or wood for print-making)**

Desperately, she salved Maitimo’s hands. She promised herself that they would not scar—and if they did, this, again, would be Feanor’s fault.

**_Foreshortening_ (a perspective trick to show distance)**

The bullet from the overseer’s gun brought the whole world very near. So near, she thought that she could see the end of it.

**_Gilding_ (applying gold leaf)**

“I never quarrel with my husband,” she declared, smiling, and the other farmwives sighed with envy.

In her mind, she called the quarrels something else.

**_Hue_ (color) **

Three red, three dark, and one goldy-bright. They were rather like a flock of motley chickens.

**_Illustration_ (an image accompanying text)**

The marks in the recipe-book were Caranthir’s—little checks and tallies. She studied them for some time before she realized that they were notes on his accomplishments. Red for success, blue for failure.

**_Juvenilia_ (art produced in youth)**

“It is beautiful,” Feanor breathed, grasping his chin in his hand as he did when deep in thought.

She reached up for his hand, and his mouth, and when she had kissed him, she said, “That’s because it is a portrait of _you_ , you goose.”

**_Kiln_ (an oven for firing clay)**

The plates shattered with a satisfying, pain-sharp sound.

They had felt like children, when she shaped them.

**_Landscape_ (a pictorial representation of the outdoors)**

“We never go down to the river anymore,” Maglor said. “Why is that?”

“Because Formenos,” she said, tasting Feanor’s words in her mouth, “Has everything we need.”

**_Marquette_ (the small model or “sketch” of a sculpture)**

“ _He_ is the most like me,” she said to herself, of each one. She was always wrong.

**_Negative space_ (the empty space in between positive shapes)**

It was at night—the first night that there was no baby resting against the curve of her body—that she felt their losses most.

“They are in their rooms, safe and sound,” Feanor whispered, holding her close. “They could not stay small forever.”

**_Overpainting_ (the final layer of paint that fills in details of the work)**

The best art must not lie. It was a surprisingly difficult principle to abide by, outside the safety of her studio.

**_Pigment_ (color essence)**

“I wanted _yellow_ stars,” Maglor complained, tossing down the brush. “But the blue of the night sky has made them all _green_!”

**_Rule of thirds_ (composition rule; divides in three rows and three columns) **

“Your brothers—” she said, before she bit her tongue.

She slept alone that night.

**_Shade_ (a color’s darker values)**

“In truth, I did not want to intrude,” Finwe said, with that charming, kindly smile. She returned his warm embrace, and did not say,

_We all but starved, that long winter. You would have been polite and delicate, I am sure, as you laid us in our graves._

**_Tone_ (the amount of light or shade in a color)**

He would leave her again. It was only ever a question of when.

**_Vermilion_ (vivid, orange-tinged red)**

Maedhros and the worshipful twins, playing an elaborate game upon the lawn, were cast in sunset fire.

**_Watermark_ (an embossed, identifying mark on paper)**

“It is just a birthmark, Feanor! A stork bite, the midwife called it. When his hair grows in, it will cover it.” She kissed the faint pink blossoming at the nape of Maedhros’ neck, but the line between Feanor’s eyebrows stayed precisely where it was, until she said,

“Think of it as our signature. If they were to line up a dozen boys who looked exactly alike, we would know him by this tiny spot.”

“They could never find a _dozen_ boys who looked like him,” Feanor said proudly, reaching for the baby. “Not even one!”

**_Xylography_ (early technique of woodcarving)**

“Whittling,” said Celegorm, when asked. “I am going to make a fierce brown bear.”

The bear looked more like a pig, but she held her peace.

**_Yellowing_ (discoloration of oil paintings most often caused by dirt embedded in the varnish) **

In the attic, she found a box of Maedhros’ letters from the city—the ones that she had hidden, so that Feanor could not burn them with all the rest of their papers.

She found she could not bear to read them.

**_Zinnober green_ (chrome green)**

Her garden will grow again when the weather is fine; such is its eternal, simple promise. Nerdanel used to think that a blessing.

Now, when it returns, it shall not be to her.

**Author's Note:**

> Art terms and definitions sourced from arttango & teresabernardart


End file.
